If anyone knew the nation’s favorite figurehead was out picking pockets and robbing manors at night, not even my mother would try to stop the Council from throwing me out onto the street. I’d be the gutter rat to match my pastimes.

But I wasn’t about to be caught.

I’d shifted my facial features just enough that no one would recognize me and donned commoner’s clothing, a pristine white shirt and gray pants. I wore no hood or mask, bore no blades—at least no visible ones—and was freshly bathed. I appeared as one of the few upstanding middle-class citizens with a nice home to return to and coin to spare. I’d be one of the last to be suspected of thievery.

If the people I passed knew I was the Eujia Levie, the chosen Scion, the Breaker of Curses, the Prophesied, I’d be the very last they’d suspect.

I found my way to one of the wealthier night marketplaces where fine jewelry, embroidered fabrics, plush furs, rare spices, candies, embellished vases and dishes, and purely decorative golden weapons were sold under a wooden canopy brightly lit with several crystal-powered lanterns and chandeliers.

Each stall was run by some well-known merchant family or other, each and every one having been in the business for generations. Not a single child under the age of ten was in sight, though. Younger ones were barred from the richer markets. Gods forbid a sweet or two would disappear or some precious vase would be broken.

The only exception ever made to that rule had been for me when I was small. Only a day after my anointment, guards and priests had paraded me around every part of town, rich and poor, including the marketplaces where they shouted nonsense about my pureness of heart and mind. Rich pricks had ogled me even back then, probably imagining what they could get away with having me as their wife. I’d still managed to avoid that particular prison, so far, though I knew talks were being held behind my back. I wondered if those men would still desire me so badly if they found out I wasn’t so pure of body. They probably hadn’t even imagined it was possible, because who in their right mind would bed Eujia Levie out of wedlock?

Someone who didn’t know who I really was, that was who.

I pushed away any lustful thoughts of Yesida’s prominent bulge and focused on my current goal. I pretended to scan the goods at various stalls, but wouldn’t risk trying to swipe anything directly from the displays. Instead, I plastered on a broad smile and struck up conversations with wealthy shoppers about which of the crafted goods would be most worth the cost. The crowded nature of the market meant no one would bat an eye at how close I stood to my targets, meaning I could swipe the coins from their purses and tuck them into my shoulder bag without drawing any attention. I needed to be careful, though, and target only the wealthiest of them, the ones with jeweled rings and fat purses on display. If I stole from too many, they’d be more likely to trace the thievery back to the market. Then they’d hold their purses more tightly, not to mention there would be more guards on the lookout, and I’d be down one more market. I’d already lost two.

My bag’s strap began to dig into my shoulder from the weight of so many coins, so I figured it was time to stop. I bade a good night to the shopper I’d been chatting with and headed for the street. I needed to make my delivery before paying Yesida a visit, then I needed to be home before sunrise. At least with my illness, I could always pass off my exhaustion each morning as another symptom. It was one of the only perks.

A drunken man wobbled and bumped into me as I passed, snapping me out of my thoughts. He stumbled sideways, his eyes going wide.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Very sorry, my lady,” he slurred. He was a desen, made obvious by those Givel eyes with the disturbingly wide pupils, only a sliver of iris visible around them that nearly glowed icy blue even in the dark. He was a handsome one, I had to admit, but he bowed and hurried off before I could accept his apology, his black clothing and hair merging with the darkness down a side street.

I shrugged off the encounter and continued on my way, only for a pair of guards to block my path. “Excuse me, my lady,” one said. “I apologize for the intrusion, but we’ve received a tip about a thief matching your description.”

What? How? I’d been as careful as always! “A thief, here?” I asked, feigning surprise. “What can I do? Do I need to come with you to the offices? I’m sorry, I’ve never been stopped before. I don’t know how this works.”

“Not to worry, miss. Can you tell us what you have in your bag?”

“My family is doing well at the market tonight, and my parents didn’t feel comfortable keeping so much coin at the stall, so they sent me to drop some of our earnings at home.” I offered the bag to them.

The guard who accepted it raised an eyebrow as he took the weight in one hand. “Congratulations on a successful night,” he said.

“Thank you.”

He sifted through it, and the coins clinked against each other, but then he scowled. “What is this?” A jeweled dagger with a lapis lazuli inlay in the hilt appeared in his hand, sheath and all. “This doesn’t belong to you.”

I gaped at the thing. I’d never risk stealing something like that. “No, it doesn’t,” I admitted. “I don’t know how that got there. But there was a man who bumped into me on the way out of the market—”

“You’re saying a man who just bumped into you dropped this into your bag without you noticing?”

“I don’t know how else it would have gotten there.” I’d always been so busy picking others’ pockets that I’d never thought to guard my own. I cursed myself for that. “Please, take it back to whoever it belongs to, I don’t mean any trouble.”

“Oh, we will. Tell me, which family are you from? Why don’t we go back into the market, and they can confirm your identity for us?”

“Of course. I’m one of the Zalanis. They run the—”

“The jewelry stall, we know. Lead the way.”

I turned back for the market. Shit, shit, shit. How could this happen? That man who’d set me up—who was he? What did he want? Had he targeted me, or did he just need a scapegoat? I needed to find him. But first, I needed to get away.

I spotted a slightly raised cobblestone and pretended to stumble on it. The guard with my bag caught me. “Sorry,” I said. Then I snatched the bag and ran.

“Hey!”

I bolted down a dark alley, then turned a few corners, trying to lose the guards, but they were close on my heels. I didn’t stand a chance of outrunning them, not in my condition. My breathing was already labored, and my legs were growing heavy. Curse it all.

I repeatedly cast out my consciousness, searching for a house with no living soul inside, but with no luck.

Turning another corner, a small shed protruded into the alley. I cast out again for just a fraction of a second. There was no one inside. Before the guards came around the corner after me, I’d blinked forward several feet, straight through the shed’s wall, and found myself in pure darkness.

“Where the fuck did she go?” one of the guards shouted.

“Try the shed!”

Shit! I grabbed the doorknob and held tight. I struggled to hold it firm while the guard tried twisting it from the other side. “It’s locked.”

“Kick it down.”

Oh, gods.

I checked for any souls on the other side of the wall, inside the house, but there were two right there. If I blinked inside, they’d know immediately who I was, and it would all be over.

But if I stayed…

A hand clamped down over my mouth while a strong arm pulled me back away from the door. “Thought you’d take the bait,” a man whispered. “Stay quiet, now.”

How? How had someone been in here without me noticing?

The door burst inward, halfway falling off its fragile hinges, and the guard lifted a portable crystal bulb to check inside. But the man behind me held firm, and the two guards scanned over the tools scattered around the shed as if we weren’t there.

One swore before both turned away and gave up the search.

“Don’t scream,” the man behind me said, and he released me only to shove me back into a bare section of a wall.

“You’re that drunkard who planted the dagger, aren’t you?” I asked.

“I’m not actually drunk, but yes.”

“Why?”

“How about you answer questions, instead of asking them?” A knife’s edge pressed to my throat.

“Ask away,” I grumbled.

“So.” I flinched as his breath warmed my ear. “Are you going to murder the emperor, or not?”